Stormy Hearts
by Garnet-Moon
Summary: 50 sentences: He had loved her from afar for centuries after he's left her shores. She was never sure what to make of her tall blonde former captor, so why is she starting to feel so weird around him? DenmarkXFem!England
1. 50 Themes

**Disclaimer: The Hetalia manga and anime series do not belong to me**

**LiveJournal 50 sentences Theme set: Epsilon**

Stormy Hearts

**Motion**

The lurching in his stomach had nothing to do with the ship or sea and everything to do with the blonde haired nation walking on board.

**Cool**

There were few people who could break past the calm, near icy, mask she showed the world; France and America did it by being annoying bastards and Denmark did it whenever he touched her skin.

**Young**

"Wow you're country must be really weak if you're a girl." The young Denmark mocked his newest land and circled round her, the next thing he saw was the roof and the back of his head was hurtling like hell, one of the warriors chuckled and whispered "Young love." to the other grinning fighters.

**Last**

She was the last country you would expect to fall in love with anyone but that didn't really matter to him or to her.

**Wrong**

Denmark watches with angry eyes as her family try to tell her how bad he is and every single blemish in his past, they don't realise that she knows it all and that they are the ones who are mistaken.

**Gentle**

He wasn't kind, soft or sweet, sometimes he did hurt her with the things he said and did but none of that matters when she feels his scarred battle-worn hands wrap around her with reverence and care.

**One**

She let out another sigh as she walked up the stairs with her fellow nation passed out leaning on her shoulders; just one more beer, yeah right, it was Denmark it was never just one more.

**Thousand**

His hangover the next day feels a thousand times better when he sees her sleeping next to him, fully clothed, and hugging him with a surprising strength; best hangover ever.

**King**

He was the ruler of the north and he knew of only one woman fit to be his queen.

**Learn**

England scowled as the blade in her hand was once again bashed away by her instructor who calmly asked her if she'd like to stop, the memory of laughing blue eyes made her pick up the sword and begin again.

**Blur**

He saw the brown head of one of the Italy's rush past him and turned round only to have a blond blur charge after it but he was in the way and in a few confused seconds he found himself on the floor with a panting red faced England on top.

**Wait**

"I'm not ready now Denmark...but I will be some day." She hates the pain in is eyes and herself for her selfish unspoken request, his hand lifts her chin up and he kisses her forehead; silently vowing to wait forever.

**Change**

He chokes on his drink when he sees her again the tiny scruffy little girl has been replaced by one of the most sexiest women he's ever seen; so busy gawking at he doesn't realise the anger beginning to show on her face.

**Command**

It's her secret but she loves dominating her lover and telling him what to do, strangely she doesn't mind it the other way either.

**Hold**

In the middle of the night when the lightning and thunder clash across the sky he presses her to him and whispers her tales of Thor and Odin.

**Need**

He's loud, violent, temperamental, an alcoholic and has enough arrogance for ten humans...but she needs him in her life.

**Vision**

Very rarely he will catch her looking at Belarus, Lichtenstein or some of the other female nations with a look of envy on her face and he wonders if one day he'll be able to tell her that to him she'd always be beautiful.

**Attention**

The bad thing about her boyfriend was that he hated it when she gave other men her attention and she'd later find them bruised, bleeding or beaten and scared of coming anywhere near her,

**Soul**

He's never been good with words or expressing himself so whenever he kisses her he puts his heart and soul into it.

**Picture**

She was rummaging through her attic when she found it; a small piece of wood with a clumsy carving of two children on it, scrawled on the bottom in untidy ancient runes was a single word: friends.

**Fool**

Maybe he is as stupid as they say he thinks as she advances on him with a sword in her hand, how was he supposed to know today was her birthday?

**Mad**

Most of her family told her she was insane for being with him..except for the twerp Sealand who cheered at the thought of jerk England getting nicer after hanging out with his cool "Uncle".

**Child**

Denmark glances down at the small country in chains; he had expected a mighty embodiment of this land but she was no older than him and her eyes were scared.

**Now**

Despite the fact they've been lovers for years she still gets a thrill when she wakes up in his arms in the morning.

**Shadow**

"How could you pick him?" She slowly moves backwards scared by the darkness in her former charge's eyes. "Let her go America!" Her head snaps up to see Sweden, Finland, Norway, Iceland and Denmark glaring at America, none of them look happy.

**Goodbye**

The thought of saying goodbye to her terrifies him more than anything else in the world.

**Hide**

It's a little embarrassing for her to jump into his closet after their first time because Norway paid a surprise visit.

**Fortune**

As he watches his brothers/rivals/former colonies/friends taking pains to get to know her he wonders how he ever got so damned lucky to get his family.

**Safe**

Her heart has been hurt so many times during her long life but she hopes that he will be the one to keep it safe and whole.

**Ghost**

When England tells him there's a ghost living in his house and that she's asked Norway to come around to do an exorcism he's really not sure if she's joking or not.

**Book**

Her fingers quickly unwrap the parcel that Denmark just dumped on her lap, honestly the nation had no manners at all, you couldn't just...her thoughts trailed off as she saw the signed copy of Hans Christian Andersons fairytales in her hands.

**Eye**

"Stop staring at her, you look even more idiotic than usual." Norway clearly has no sympathy for the pains of the heart.

**Never**

She should have realised when she gave herself to a Viking that he wasn't ever going to let her go.

**Sing**

His favourite time is in the evening when she lays his head on her lap and sings him the songs from her past.

**Sudden**

It's during a world meeting when she realises that she loves the idiot and when there is a pause for drinks she rushes straight at him.

**Stop**

The only thing stopping him from falling back is the wall so he's a little winded and confused when his unrequited love rams into his stomach.

**Time**

He had given her the time she'd asked for and that was why she latched her mouth onto his.

**Wash**

He suppresses a pleasurable shudder as her hands rub the bath oil onto his shoulders and he can hear her giggle in his ear.

**Torn**

She lets out a scream as she feels America cutting himself off from her and her head wants to split in two, strong but gentle hands rock her until she finally falls asleep.

**History**

One day she finds the Nordics dressed up in their old Viking gear and she really doesn't like the evil grin on Denmark's face when he says he wants to re-enact some history...Time to run.

**Power**

The brute strength of his arms and chest fascinate her and she can spend ages just running her fingers lightly over his muscles.

**Bother**

He needs to have a word with her former colonies about trying to take her away from him, it's getting very annoying.

**God**

Even though they live in a time of science and technology she still prays every night and thanks Him for letting her heart love.

**Wall**

It's not funny any more when he finds a ten foot wall around her house with "property of America" stamped on it...Time to involve his family.

**Naked**

She's never been comfortable with her body so she turns from him slightly when she strips, his hands crush her to him and whisper hoarsely "You're the most god-damned beautiful women in this world." She can here the truth and desire in his voice and lets herself relax in his hold,

**Drive**

For all her inexperience she has tremendous stamina and passion and he is the one who is tired out first, she just laughs and stretches out on top of him.

**Harm**

She reminds him that she's not just a damsel in distress when she punches France through a brick wall at the next EU meeting.

**Precious**

The ring he gave her isn't fancy, special or dazzling but it is one of her most precious possessions that matches the one tired around his neck.

**Hunger**

His desire and hunger for her will never be sated and she can't count the times she's had to hid bite marks on her neck and arms with make-up or clothing.

**Believe**

Neither of them can afford to believe in Happy Ever After but they are starting too.

**AN: Hello, sorry for the rather long break in my writing career but I was in Spain...that sounds a little pervy when writing about Hetalia but meh. Yes it's another DenmarkXFemEngland but I really love this couple and it's a shame there aren't more fics about them. Bad news I'm going to be very busy the next few weeks so updates and one-shots will be rare. Anyway, hope you enjoyed this and please check out my other hetalia stories and review.**


	2. Motion

**Disclaimer: The Hetalia manga and anime series do not belong to me**

1) Motion

Denmark scowled as he felt his stomach doing another back-flip. Odin, what the hell was wrong with him today? His palms were sweaty, he couldn't sit still for five minutes and he was being unusually snappy towards the crew. If he didn't know any better he would say that he was nervous. But that was impossible. He was Denmark; King of the North and he was never nervous, and even if he was it had nothing to do with the blonde nation about to step on board his ship.

The sea rocked the ship once more and he yelled out some orders to the men. He knew better than most the power of the sea and he wasn't about to risk lives by ignoring the warning signs. Standing on the deck with a confident, slightly arrogant, stance, voice shouting over the roar of the wind and his trusty battle-axe strapped to his back he looked every inch the conqueror he was.

When he was sure that the men knew what they were doing he ran an agitated hand through his hair. It looked to be a bad storm and he wasn't the only ship on the sea today. _She _was coming to meet him, and despite her near-legendary status as a captain he worried about her.

"Captain, ship spotted." His head snapped round at the voice and he saw with no slight relief the flapping flag that had appeared on the horizon. She was safe then. Not that he cared or anything. As the ship drew closer his stomach was launching its new career as a gymnast. It had been about ten years since they'd last met and that had been a purely political, in the presence of their bosses, talk.

Her ship drew up to his and the plank was positioned between them. There was a sudden hush among his men as the rhythmic clip of her footsteps on wood filled the air. Denmark could understand their awe. Walking on their ship was a pretty famous nation; one of the most powerful countries in the world and ruler of the waves. It helped that she looked fantastic away. The ships constant rocking, the wind beating at the sails and his stomachs constant lurching suddenly seemed to increase tenfold as green eyes met blue. A smile curved her lips and he was very aware that her uniform fit her very well.

"It's good to see you again Denmark." That voice, her voice. It had haunted his dreams for so many years. He'd known her since they were both children and had cared about her for as long as he could remember. She'd fought against him tooth and nail, and had built herself up to one of the strongest nations in the world. He held out a hand and she grasped it with hers.

"Same to you England." His own lips widened into his usual grin and he shook her hand firmly. At least the motion of his stomach was caused by a beautiful woman rather than him being sea-sick. Now that would have just been embarrassing.

**AN: These are just little ficlets to keep me constantly writing, and to get me back into the flow. I chose to carry on this fic because I just adore this pairing! Each "chapter" will just extend on one of the original 50 themes. This is number 1. I'm not sure when it's set, so its probably a little AU.**


	3. Cool

**Disclaimer: The Hetalia manga and anime series do not belong to me**

2) Cool

One of the things that England prided herself on was her self control. She'd been there since Ancient Rome was alive and over the centuries had created a blank, calm, almost icy mask that hid her true thoughts and feelings from everyone. She had come to being in a dark and violent world where enemies wouldn't hesitate to use anything against her. It also came in very useful during political meetings. Sadly it had the added effect of making her unable to show a great deal of affection; she was never a touchy, feely nation but her outer mask hid the warm feelings she felt for others.

England wasn't sure if the benefits were worth the loneliness.

Of course there were two or three exceptions. A couple of nations who had found ways of breaking her mask and upsetting the cool façade she showed the rest of the world. Usually it was because they were the most annoying men in the entire world.

First was France. The frog had known her back when she was a child, so he'd known her true personality before she'd perfected her mask. She'd known his father Gaul and one day the nation had introduced his son to her. She'd nearly stabbed him in the chest. He was arrogant, frivolous, insulting and there was just something about him that really really angered her. He seemed to have made it his personal mission to make her drop her mask and he was bloody good at it. Of course in the deep, deep, deep recesses of her soul a very small voice would whisper that she was grateful to the Frenchman for knowing what she was really like.

The second was America. Her former charge knew exactly how to get under her skin and her mask always slipped whenever he did something really stupid. Then again America knew how to anger a lot of people so she wasn't unique in that.

Those two broke her calm by being extremely annoying. However, there was one nation that broke her mask for an entirely different reason.

Her eyes focused on him and his brothers as they entered the world meeting room. Her back stiffened automatically and she nervously fidgeted in her chair. They had agreed to keep their relationship secret for a couple of weeks as they both settled into it, but he hadn't been happy about it and kept on trying to embarrass her in front of the others. The only problem was that it was working. She could feel him walking behind her chair and braced herself for whatever he was going to do.

A large warm hand suddenly brushed the back of her neck. Skin touched skin. Memories of their last night together flashed through her head. She snapped up straight and couldn't suppress the quick shudder of pleasure that travelled through her. Her eyes closed for a second before she forced them open. Damn it.

She shook her head and turned to glare at the now-grinning nation that sat a little way down from her. The Dane looked completely unrepentant and she scowled at him. The back of her neck was still tingling and she knew that she wouldn't stop thinking about him for the whole meeting.


	4. Young

**Disclaimer: The Hetalia manga and anime series do not belong to me**

3) Young

England did not like the boy standing in front of her. He was taller then her, had weird spiky blonde hair and eyes that reminded her of one of the storms off the coast. Said eyes were looking her up and down; examining her, weighing her up and she resisted the urge to fidget under his gaze. She had just been relaxing after Rome had finally collapsed and she was in no mood to have a new "master". Especially one that didn't look much older than her.

She'd been taking a nap behind a bush, after speaking with the fairies, when suddenly this blonde boy had jumped on her head and clamped a chain around her neck and dragged her back to his camp, they were currently in one of the make-shift huts. It would be a lie to say she wasn't scared; the country in front of her didn't look that scary but the big hulking men with sharp pointy swords were a little bit intimidating. The logical side of her mind was telling her to keep quiet and wait until the boy went away, to not do anything that might anger him; she was only small and her military strength was not that impressive. Still if he didn't say something soon she was going to explode. It was a point of pride for her that no matter how hard Rome had tried to stamp her spirit out of her and her people, she still retained the wildness and temper he had hated.

"Wow." So he was finally going to speak. She snapped her eyes back to his. "You're country must be really weak if you're a girl." what! The git turned his head to speak to his men and before she knew what she was doing her fist shot out. Fist met head and the boy spun on his feet for a second before falling on his back. For a second she thought she could see tiny ships sailing round his head but she shrugged and stomped out of the hut with her head held high. That would show the bastard what a "weak" country could do. She would get rid of him eventually; it was just a matter of patience. On her way out she stomped past a couple more men but didn't stop.

Norway dodged the angry island and shared a glance with Sweden. The two boys went into the hut and were not surprised to see Denmark lying on the floor in a daze with an angry red mark forming on the back.

"Wh't d'd y'u do now D'nmark?" Their friend's eyes shot open and he sat up on the floor.

"Where did she go?" His head whipped around left and right. Norway frowned.

"Who? The new nation?" Denmark nodded and was still looking around for his newest conquest. "She went outside, she looked pretty angry. What did you say to her?" By then Denmark had already shot outside after her. "Wait, Denmark." Norway followed him and Sweden walked out after them both.

The warriors shared a meaningful glance and one of them started to chuckle.

"Never thought I'd see the day he'd chase after a girl."

"She's a fiery one though, going to be quite a handful when she grows up."

"Then she'll keep him in line." One of them snorted and resumed sharpening his sword. A muffled yell and thump could be heard form outside and the men just laughed.

"Young love eh?"


	5. Last

**Disclaimer: The Hetalia manga and anime series do not belong to me**

4) Last

When people thought of England they thought of stubbornness, easily angered, iron willed and a warrior. Sure in present times she wasn't as great as she had once been but her personality was pretty much the same. Needless to say when one thought of a love interest England was not top of the list. Admittedly, she was beautiful; long, shiny blonde hair, bright green eyes, medium sized and a pretty face. The only problem was said face was usually screwed up in anger or had a constant frown on.

Despite that a couple of nations had tried with her. France, you can guess how badly that went, Spain, before the whole "pirate" era happened, and America, which ended similarly to France's attempt. So it came around that when a nation was thinking of a possible romantic partner, England was last on the list. Her frequent swings between ice queen and raging pot of fury kept the rest of the world far away.

Likewise romance was not high on her list either, it never had been during her life. She didn't really see the point in a relationship, except in a romantic novel she sometimes glanced at now and then, and the closest she'd felt to love was the way she felt for her colonies; the slightly maternal pull she felt for them, even if some of them (Alfred) were stupid. She'd spent too many years watching France toy with women's hearts to believe in love, and the vivid memory of Rome hurting both Ancient Greece and Egypt refused to leave her.

England believed that humans could feel love. She'd seen many of her people find love over the centuries but she didn't believe the same could be applied to nations or, more specifically, her. Then she'd met the couples who proved the exception to the rule: Sweden and Finland, Canada and Cuba, Southern Italy and Belgium etc. They had stumped her, she'd thought after a few years they'd get bored and move on, but they hadn't. Still, it would never happen to her right, she was the last person anyone, including herself, thought would fall in love. Age had made her cynical and suspicious, there was no way she could trust her heart to anyone.

Or so she'd thought.

Then she'd run into Denmark again.

She'd no idea how he did it. She wasn't sure where or when it had happened. She didn't even know why she'd fallen for him. All she knew was that she had, and now she could understand it. Now she could see why people raved on and on about love. It was the most amazing and filling emotion she'd ever felt. It didn't matter that her family disapproved of him or that the world was gob-smacked. It was none of their business, a message she continually had to drill into her brothers heads, and some of her former lands.

He loved her and she loved him. That was all that mattered to the both of them and that was enough.


	6. Wrong

**Disclaimer: The Hetalia manga and anime series do not belong to me**

5) Wrong

His fists clenched against his side and he fiercely regretted not bringing his axe to the meeting, but noooooo apparently that wasn't safe. Please, he'd been wielding that thing for centuries and had never hurt himself or anyone by accident...OK there was that one time with France a long time ago, and he might have nearly chopped off Norway's nose once or twice, but he knew how to use it properly. Besides if Norway had said he could bring the axe then he wouldn't be in this situation: watching his girlfriend/lover's family telling her exactly why she shouldn't be with him. The meeting had ended when suddenly she had been swarmed by her brothers and former charges each yelling out a reason why she should leave him. He supposed it wouldn't have been as bad if she had looked like she wasn't listening, but there was a deadly serious look on her face, and that meant she was paying attention to what they were saying.

His chest felt tight and for the first time in years he felt afraid. He knew he had been, and still was, a bastard and that his history was far from sparkling white. There was no country in the world who had a perfect history, most nations had done something wrong or bad at one point in their lives. Well every strongish country, some of the younger ones and the tiny ones didn't have the strength to do anything like start a war or even fight in a war.

This was why he needed h is axe: it was hard to talk when your head had been chopped off. He could hear snatches of words.

"...violent...Vikings..."

"...temper..."

"..alcoholic...joker...fake..."

His fist clenched again and he began to seriously contemplate walking across the room and dragging her away form them. He probably would do, if he didn't know that she would go absolutely bat-shit crazy at him later. One thing he knew that England loved was her family, even if she didn't show it much to them they held a huge part of her heart. Her room had a picture of every one of her former colonies, including America (even though the guy had left her before the commonwealth had formed), and she kept pictures of her brothers by her bedside table. (They never went into her room so they had no idea that she had them) So if he tried to take her away from them she'd probably show him just why the world had feared her all those years ago.

She held up a hand. Instantly the chatter stopped as they all waited to see if their words had had any effect on their "mother nation".

"Thank you for your concern, but it is not necessary."

"B-But England-"

"Quiet America. I can understand your concern, really I do, but I think that you lot are the ones mistaken here." She let out a breath. "Do you really think I'd be stupid enough to fall in love with someone I didn't know? I've known him for centuries, I know about the things he's done...but I don't care. My past isn't exactly a model of goodness either, and he doesn't mind. Being in love means you accept that person despite whatever flaws they have or things they've done. So this really is just a waste of your breath."

Her eyes were strong and her gaze didn't waver from them. Denmark suddenly felt a lot better, maybe he didn't need his axe today after all. Apparently her heart still had enough room left over for him to fit in.


	7. Gentle

**Disclaimer: The Hetalia manga and anime series do not belong to me**

6) Gentle

The sunlight shone through the window and bathed the entwined bodies on the bed with a golden glow. One of the pair was asleep, his eyes shut and mouth slightly open, the other was laying on top of him staring down at her lover with soft green eyes. She gently ran one of her hands along his face, so as not to wake him, and smiled when he leaned into her touch. It was strange seeing the former Viking so...calm and cute. Though he'd fiercely deny it when he woke up. Maybe she should take a picture?

Honestly she had had just come to discuss some EU matters then leave, but he hadn't thought that was a good idea. Instead she'd found herself pressed against his living-room wall with his mouth firmly on hers. She'd resisted for all of two seconds before his tongue had slipped past her lips and she'd been lost. So she had decided to stay the night. A frown crossed her features when she realised she'd have to call home for some clothes to wear tomorrow; her old ones had been torn apart pretty quickly after that kiss, and that would mean a tense phone-call to one of her brothers. For some reason they seemed to absolutely loathe the man sleeping beneath her.

Denmark mumbled something incoherent and one of his hands reached up to rap around her waist. Even in his sleep his hands held her with care. She loved his hands. They were calloused and scarred from years of fighting wars, and she loved the way he handled her; as if she were made of glass. Don't get her wrong, she was a big fan of roughness and passion but he was the only one who was gentle with her. Everyone else seemed to forget that she was a female and, despite her rather aggressive personality, she liked being looked after now and then. It just shocked her a little that Denmark would be the one to do it.

He wasn't known for kindness, softness or sweetness. He'd hurt her before in the past and had a tendency to say really stupid things, but he cared for her. England had always been the one taking care of people; her colonies had been pretty demanding (and still where) for her attention. If she'd spent slightly longer with one then you could bet that the others would complain. Her brothers where no better and America was one of the worst offenders. Rome hadn't been a great guardian, he was usually too busy either fighting with Germania or flirting with Ancient Greece or Ancient Egypt. When she'd returned she'd grown up and her brothers hadn't seen the need to baby her. No it was only Denmark.

She closed her eyes as one of his hands began to stroke her back.

"I know your awake." One blue eye opened and the familiar grin spread across his face.

"It's hard to sleep when you've got a beautiful naked woman lying on top of you and staring." A red flush stained her cheeks and her smile widened a little. She shuffled forward and planted a kiss on his mouth. He let her move her head up for a second before he leant up and kissed her with a lot more heat. She moaned into his mouth and she could feel his uh...eagerness if the swelling prodding against her stomach was any indication. She broke it and pushed herself up on the bed.

"I have to go call my brothers soon, they'll be worried." He shrugged and pulled her closer.

"I want you to myself for a little longer." She was about to argue when he began to stroke her back again. She arched into the touch and glared, half-heartedly, at him. She loved being treated gently and damn it if he didn't know it.


	8. One

**Disclaimer: The Hetalia manga and anime series do not belong to me**

7) One

The weight of the other nation was dragging her down. Really she should have just left him there, passed out at the bar, drooling, but that would be cruel. Still where was his family? The Nordics were a pretty close bunch and she found it surprising that they'd let him go out on his own. They knew better than her how much trouble the Dane could get into when he was drunk. She'd come across him when he was about half way between drunk and completely smashed. Being the responsible adult she was she'd tried to get him to stop drinking. But she'd forgotten who she was dealing with.

"Oh come on England, just one more." He'd stared at her with those bright blue eyes and she'd reluctantly agreed. Still for his own safety she had decided to stay with him; some sort of motherly maternal instinct left over from her days as an empire. Of course with Denmark it was never just one more drink. She'd ordered some water and watched as he drank himself too unconsciousness. He'd started mumbling some really weird things, about her of all people, that she was sure were made up. For example he'd told her that he'd had a crush on her since they'd first met and how pretty he thought she was.

A light pink flush covered her cheeks and she grumbled under her breath about drunken idiots who didn't know what they were talking about. When he'd eventually passed out she couldn't just leave him there (not after he called her pretty) so here she was; dragging him up the stairs to his room. He was leaning against her with one arm over her other shoulder; he wasn't feather light. What made it slightly awkward for her was that she could feel his upper torso pressed against her, and there wasn't an ounce of fat on the man. The muscles she could feel were very impressive and she always did have a thing for strong men.

Shaking her head free of those thoughts she pushed open the bedroom door, albeit with some difficulty, and nearly wept in relief when she saw that the bed wasn't that far from the door. Taking one last breath she half-staggered, half-ran across the room. Her shoulder would be so sore tomorrow. With a final heave she pushed him onto the bed and sighed with relief as the weight left her shoulders. Gods she was tired. She looked at her watch and frowned at the time, 03:00. Green eyes gazed wistfully at the soft bed her drunken friend was snoring on. Her room was on the other side of the building and she would probably wake someone up so...

Well, he owed her for bringing him back to his room and he wasn't France. With a sigh she pulled off her jumper and t-shirt. Praying that she wasn't making a big mistake she pulled off her trousers and crawled into bed next to the Dane. Sleep almost instantly overcame her, and when his arm reached around her and pulled her close, she didn't protest.

**AN: OK I have a major case of writers block and I need you guys to help me. Please just request a pairing or one-shot or story idea for me to think about. Hope you are enjoying this fic.**


	9. Thousand

**Disclaimer: The Hetalia manga and anime series do not belong to me**

8) Thousand

Denmark groaned as the morning light shone on his face. His head felt like someone had taken a hammer and bashed it repeatedly against his skull. Thor! How much had he drunk last night? He vaguely remembered the feel of silky blonde hair and a pair of flashing green eyes. Great he'd been fantasising about _her_ again. The one woman he'd ever known that could make his heart with something more than just battle-lust and desire, the nation whom he'd known since childhood yet never gave him more than a second glance. Maybe Norway was right and he should just give up on...

It was this point in his rather melancholy thoughts that Denmark realised his arm was curled around something. He blinked and turned his head slightly, which was enough to make him wince again, to see who his bed partner was. It was a woman, with long golden hair, a pretty face and a scar on her shoulder that looked exactly like- His eyes widened comically as he recognised the nation laying next to him and snuggling into his chest.

Of course being male the first thing he notices is that she is only in her underwear. His throat when bone dry as he registers her soft skin pressed against his bare chest; it feels so good, even better than he'd imagined. She mumbles something incoherently and cuddles closer to his chest. Surely this must be a dream, or another one of Norge's stupid spells gone awry again, because there was no way in hell that England would ever cuddle anyone who wasn't a former colony or child. He was one of the few who knew that she had a soft spot for children; he'd discovered it when he'd walked into Sweden's house one day and seen her humming a lullaby to a sleeping Sealand. The soft look on her face had made him turn around and quietly walk out.

How on earth had this happened. His memory from last night was foggy, wonder why, but he'd definitely not done anything with her because he'd passed out downstairs. She had joined him and apparently brought him back to his room as well. He glanced at the slumbering island and cautiously pulled her a little closer, the woman had a horrible temper when it was awakened and he kind of liked his current anatomy, to his relief she didn't wake up and only stirred a little. Her arms were curled around him as well and he suddenly realised that this was the best hangover he'd ever had. His head felt a thousand times better and he glanced at the clock; it was 8 am. The meeting started at 9am. Hmmm, got to another boring world meeting where nations all got angry with each other and would soon descend into chaos, or, stay here in a bundle of warmth with the unrequited love of his life, whilst she's hugging him; tough one. He made himself comfortable and closed his eyes.

Ah well Norge would cover for him. His best friend would understand right?


	10. King

**Disclaimer: The Hetalia manga and anime series do not belong to me**

9) King

The icy winds of the north made him smile as he looked over his lands. This was his realm; dark, harsh and cold only warriors prospered here and he was ruler over all of it. He was the King. A small voice whispered in his head that his time would soon be over, that all empires would one day fall, even his, but he ignored it. He knew this would not last forever so he intended to enjoy it while he could. The blood in his veins sang for battle and despite his idiotic smile, he was a master fighter. Well his body did call for something else or rather someone.

He closed his eyes as a picture of _her_ appeared in his mind. He'd encountered her again only about 20 years ago, centuries since they'd first met in their childhood, and she had entrenched herself in his head. He'd been vividly reminded of his cihldhood crush. It had gotten to the point where he couldn't even sleep with other women without comparing them to her. She was fiery, a warrior, stubborn, passionate; but she was also protective and caring. She valued her family and people above all else. On top of that she was beautiful and sexy. The only problem was she didn't like him.

So maybe their reunion hadn't gone great (he had spent the whole time mainly gawking at her) and she had ended it by nearly punching him. Still she was the only woman worthy to be his queen. No other would do and eventually she would be his. He never did know how to give up and he knew that she would be worth it in the end. He could hear one of his men approaching and closed his eyes. Enough fantasy for one day; he had work to do. Being the king was harder then most people thought. He stood up straight and prepared to hear whatever news the man had to bring. Right before he turned around he spared one last glance across the waves to the west. England; one day she would be his again.

**AN: Sorry that this is pathetically short but I really didn't know how to extend this prompt more.**


	11. Learn

**Disclaimer: The Hetalia manga and anime series do not belong to me**

10) Learn

Sparks flew as steel met steel. Clash! Bang! Shink! The two combatants circled each other; one of them lunging at random and the other bringing up a hasty defence. Quicker and quicker their movements increased, creating a flurry of metal and an impressive, but deadly, dance. One of the fighters was a veteran of fighting and battles, he was one of the best swordsmen in the land at the time and throughout the fight his face was calm and almost bored. His opponent was another matter. Waist-length blonde hair was tied back in a tight bun and her face was tense with concentration and frustration. Her chest was heaving slightly with her breaths and she could feel her hands growing slick with sweat. One of her legs felt weak and the other was bruised from her last training exercise. His sword crashed against hers and with a curse she realised that she couldn't hold it. With one sharp clean motion the blade was wrenched out of her hands and thrown to the floor.

Mentally berating herself she met the calm grey eyes if her instructor. She could see the criticisms in his eyes and that made her smile inwardly. One of the reasons that she'd chosen him over others was that he treated her like any other pupil; which meant that if she screwed up he wouldn't hesitate to tell her. She screwed up a lot, though she was getting better. Her hands were sore, her body was pleading with her to lay down and she knew that her duties as a country were piling up. However, she was fed up of nations assuming that she couldn't fight because she was a girl.

"We can stop for today if you'd like." The warriors voice pierced through her thoughts and her head snapped up. She knew that she should say yes and then drag her exhausted body to bed. She was meeting that idiot France tomorrow and she would need all her strength to get through that meeting. The word was on the tip of her tongue when a sudden flash of memory stopped her. Bright blue eyes that glittered with humour as she yelled at him, the words "weak country" and "girl" echoed in her ears and her fists clenched. Ignoring her body's protest she walked over to the fallen sword and picked it up.

"No we can carry on." Her voice matched his in tone and she readied herself for the next bout. The man struck at her again and she began to dodge and strike in retaliation. She would get stronger, she would show him just how weak a country this girl was. One day she would be strong and then she would be the one laughing at him instead. She grit her teeth as metal met metal again. She would get stronger. She had to, for her people, no-one would conquer her again.


	12. Blur

**Disclaimer: The Hetalia manga and anime series do not belong to me**

11) Blur

Another EU Conference, another week of him trying to avoid his long-time crush/obsession. Denmark mentally berated himself for acting like such a coward and shook his head. He wasn't acting like himself and he knew it, his family knew it too; which was the reason that Norway had sent him for a walk around the city to clear his head. Why? Why of all the nations in the world did it have to be her? Why couldn't have been someone sweeter, less angry. He sighed and looked up at the sky; because if it had been anyone else he wouldn't have fallen for them. He needed someone strong and who wouldn't break like glass. He needed a fighter to stand beside him, not a damsel in distress. It was just bad luck that England was also one of the most oblivious countries in the world.

He turned the corner and continued to walk down the street, it was quite early in the morning and there were only a couple of people were about. A sudden brown blur caught his eye, because it was heading straight for him. He could vaguely make out panicked eyes and a weird curl, probably one of the Italy's. He moved out of the way as the speeding blur passed by and blinked as the frantic blob tore down the rest of the street. What the hell could have scared-

"Get back here you coward!" His eyes widened slightly as he recognised the voice. Oh no. His luck could not be that bad. Right? A bright yellow blur crossed his path and this time he was so stunned that he was unable to move out of the way in time. A couple of confused, and loud, seconds later he found himself laying flat on the floor with a sore back and a panting red faced England sprawled out on top of him. Everything around him froze as he realised just what had happened, before his mind instantly began memorizing everything about this moment.

Her form fit against his perfectly and he could smell the natural scent of grass, sea and rain that was uniquely hers. Her hands had brushed his chest and at small places there skin touched, it wasn't smooth he could see a scar on one of her arms and another on her right palm. Some would consider them horrible, but to him they were only another testament if her courage and spirit. Of course then his more perverted side took over and he couldn't help but focus on her panting and the rise and fall of her chest. He was a healthy male, it would be unnatural for him not to notice. His mind instantly conjured up another situation in which she would be panting and out of breath, it was only through years of practice that he stopped the inevitable nosebleed. If she knew what he was thinking then she would castrate him; OK thinking of her and his vital regions in the same sentence was a really bad idea. It got even worse when a certain part of him started reacting to his thoughts.

Thankfully she finally looked down before he could embarrass himself even more. The angry spark in her eyes made them flare, he swallowed, his throat suddenly as dry as a desert.

"Denmark?" He pushed down his thoughts and gave her his typical grin.

"Hey England."

**AN: Shout out to Chibi-Sugar who has been waiting for this prompt, hope you, and others, enjoyed it! Next one is a bit angsty but it has to be written.**


	13. Wait

**Disclaimer: The Hetalia manga and anime series do not belong to me**

12) Wait

There is only silence. It fills the room and weighs heavily in the minds of the two nations. One of them has been stunned quiet and the other is simply waiting for her response. She is staring at his face but he cannot bring himself to look at her. It's because he knows what he will see there; rejection, pity and confusion. He had known that she didn't feel the same way about him, so why had he told her. What had possessed him to tell her about his long held crush (cough obsession cough)? He blamed Norge, his friend must have cast some weird spell on him, he'd have to have words with him later. Finally, he hears her take a breath and he forces himself to meet her gaze. He was right; she didn't feel the same. Even though he was prepared for it, his heart still felt like it had been torn to shreds.

England felt terrible. She knew what she had to say and she knew that it would hurt him, but it would be so much worse to lie. She would do him right by being honest. The fact was she didn't love him, or even consider them more than friends. On her side there had never been a hint of romance and she cursed herself for being so blind. Her eyes trail him up or down and she hates the almost broken air around him. Denmark shouldn't be sad, it wasn't natural. He was happy, impulsive, loud, stubborn, had a very short temper and could be a complete idiot at times. But he loved her. For some insane, impossible reason he had fallen for her and she couldn't return those feelings.

Yet, could she one day? She liked Denmark as a friend, could she ever see him as more? Yes he was attractive and she had fun with him, when she wasn't yelling at him, co there was a chance. The only problem was that she was scared. Each time she'd opened her heart to someone it had ended painfully, and she wasn't sure if she could risk it again. Still, he deserved a chance; if he had loved her for that long then he had earned that much. She took in a deep breath and opened her mouth.

"D-Denmark." She cursed the stammer and forced her voice back to normal. "I am not ready now, to be in a relationship with anyone." For a second she can see the pain in his eyes but then his face becomes a blank mask and it feels like someone has physically punched her in the stomach. Before she realised what she's doing she steps forward.

"But I will some day." She realises that it's selfish and cruel to ask him to wait for her, but she can't help it. She wants to let him into her heart but she needs time, she needs him to wait a little longer. His eyes flare with surprise and that terrible blankness disappears. One of his hands gently lifts up her chin and she blinks up at him. He slowly kisses her forehead and she can only stand still when his lips brush her skin. He vows to keep on waiting and she promises to give him a chance at her heart.


	14. Change

**Disclaimer: The Hetalia manga and anime series do not belong to me**

13) Change

A scowl crossed his face as he noticed the setting sun; he was supposed to be gone by now, the meeting with England should have been done with...but she was late. He had so many better things to do with his time then sit around waiting for some nation whom he hadn't seen in centuries. It wasn't like they're countries didn't communicate or trade, it was just that he hadn't met her face to face since they were children. His face reddened slightly when he remembered his crush on the island nation all those years ago, it had been childish and very one-sided, but that was all over now. It had been based on their first meeting when she'd punched him in his face, no-one had ever done it before and he had formed an instant infatuation. Now he was just annoyed that she was late.

One of his men offered him a drink and he grunted a thank you as he took it. The alcohol eased some of his anger and he let his shoulders drop slightly. He knew that if he lost his temper the meeting would not end well, he was already having problems with Sweden over his temper, Sverige had even threatened to leave at one point. The door finally opened and a short thin man stepped in wearing very scruffy clothes. His eyes landed on Denmark and he gave a hasty bow.

"My mistress apologises for the delay, the sea crossing was worse than we'd thought it'd be." He only nodded and the man bolted out of the room. He could hear the tell-tale sound of boots on the floor from down the corridor, she was coming. He stood up and waited for his childhood crush to enter. He found that he was honestly curious about what she looked like. All his memories could bring up was a picture of a dirty scruffy looking girl with a mean glare and a hell of a punch. Really what had his younger self been thin-

He choked on the liquid when he caught sight of the vision that had just stepped in front of him. There was no way that that was England. The woman in front of him was the sexiest he'd ever seen. Long blonde hair that fell to a curvy waist, a slightly large chest that was held in tightly by a cloth shirt, her eyes were a flaring green that showed her every emotion and she had legs that he was dying to have wrapped around him. Any thought on the meeting or her lateness was swept away as he gawked at her. He swore that he could feel a nosebleed coming on and he wondered if all his blood rushing to the south of his body was a good thing.

So busy trying to return to normal he didn't notice the growing anger on England's face. In her mind she saw her old conqueror staring at her chest and she'd just been through a tough sea journey after a disastrous talk with France. She didn't need another pervert.

**AN: Just to let you guys know I've recently opened a youtube account and have put up a couple of videos, I share it with a friend and we've both put some stuff up so please check it out. Link should be on my profile.**


	15. Command

**Disclaimer: The Hetalia manga and anime series do not belong to me**

14) Command

"Take off my boots." She stared down at her lover, daring him to disobey her. Tonight was her turn to be in charge. A mixed look of glee and anger crossed his face and he seemed torn over defying her or obeying. She moved forward and ran a finger down the side of his face. He shivered at the touch and made a move to kiss her. She stopped him with a slight shake of her head.

"My boots first Mathias." She only used his human name on special occasions. There was no doubt in her mind that she would win, he was too impatient and too aroused to fight on for long. To push him over the edge she leant forward and started to run her tongue over his neck, she grinned when she felt his muscles tense and his hands clench; he was dying to touch her. With a muffled curse he grabbed her boots and nearly ripped them off her feet. She smiled and rewarded him with a kiss.

"Very good. Now my shirt." This he did with a lot more eagerness and less frustration. The blouse fell from her shoulders and one of his hands reached up to pull her to him but she caught them with her own. He growled and stared at her with blue eyes that reminded her of the warrior he had once been.

"Abigail, you're killing me here." Her eyes dropped to his trousers and a small grin crossed her face. OK, so maybe there was a little bit of a sadist in her but it only came out in situations like this. Completely ignoring him she crossed her arms and sat back.

"Jeans next." He swore in Danish and tore of her jeans in a couple of seconds. Damn it, there was another pair ruined, she really should be more careful. She was now naked apart from her underwear but the Dane was still clothed. That wasn't right. She frowned and tugged at his coat.

"Your turn Mathias." She practically purred into his ear and a shudder racked his whole body. One of hands began to pull at his clothes but she grabbed them again. "Not so fast. I want to watch." His eyes flared with the promise of retribution and she smiled completely unrepentant. As he started to shed his clothes she could feel herself getting wet and licked her lips in anticipation. She loved his body, it was exactly how a man should look like; strong, proud, arrogant and completely hers. It had surprised at her first, this new sexual drive he'd unleashed in her, but she'd soon gotten used to it and he loved the fact that he was the only one she responded this way too. Maybe not now if the way he clenched his hands and teeth was any indication. She smiled at him again and beckoned with one hand.

Then he broke and jumped at her. She let out a groan as he started to lavish attention on her body and she responded by kissing every inch of skin she could see. She loved dominating him, but she didn't mind him taking the lead either.


	16. Hold

**Disclaimer: The Hetalia manga and anime series do not belong to me**

15) Hold

An arc of lightning illuminated the sky and the rain pelted the sodden ground with fury. The storm had just gotten worse and worse as the night progressed and Denmark cursed it when he felt the shivering form cradled in his arms. Usually she was excellent at hiding her fear; he'd once seen her laugh with glee as her ship was tossed about by the waves, but not today: 4th July. Her emotions were understandably a little unstable on this day and her old fear of storms had reared its ugly head. To her credit she was silent, not a whimper or murmur passed her lips, they were locked shut with a grim determination and his admiration for her was kicked up another notch.

He pressed her to him a little tighter and felt her body relax a little more. To him storms had never been a big deal; he respected their power and they reminded him of the olden days, when his people had worshipped Odin, Thor and Freya. Norse Gods were the best, no doubt. A huge clap of thunder made him nearly jump out of his skin and a pair of pale hands dug into his back. Now, usually he had no objections to her fingers scratching his back but that was only during much more pleasurable situations. Seeing the proud, strong woman he loved acting like a scared child was not something he wanted to see. His teeth clenched as he tried to think of a way to calm her down.

Another bolt of lightening flashed through the sky and the rain seemed to get heavier. Perfect. He racked his mind and wished that he could distract her from her fear. Suddenly a memory flashed the rough his mind; a child England staring in awe at one of his men as they wove a tale of magic, Valhalla and the Gods. She'd always loved a good story, it was reflected in her love of books and literature. He gently manoeuvred her so that her ear was near his mouth and quickly chose a story to tell.

The words poured out of his mouth with all the skill his best storytellers had possessed and slowly but surely the awful tension in her shoulders began to drain away and she leaned against him. Her eyes were closed but she was still awake, allowing the adventures of Thor, Odin and the others to distract her from the raging weather outside.

For the whole night he held her, kept her safe from her fear and the next morning she didn't see any pity in his eyes. He smiled at her with that stupid grin and asked what time the next meeting was. England only shook her head and half-heartedly scolded him.

**AN: Quick bit of fluff there to counteract the previous, slightly more lemony, chapter. My life is so hectic right now it's not funny. I had a rare day off today and spent it watching the English dubbed Hetalia anime, it's actually a lot better than I thought it would be. As usual Thank you to everyone who reviewed, added to favs or alert list. **


	17. Need

**Disclaimer: The Hetalia manga and anime series do not belong to me**

16) Need

There were very few things that England needed in her life; there were plenty of things she wanted. She wanted America to stop acting idiotic at meetings, she wanted the frog to stop insulting her, and her cooking, at every chance he got, she wanted her brothers to realise that she needed her "quiet times" and she wanted a day off now and then to do some reading in her home and have a nice cup of tea. There were other things of course, her wants depended on her mood and whoever was bothering her at a specific moment. Her needs however, were slightly different.

She needed to hear her brothers voices each morning in her house to know that they were still with her and safe. She needed to call Ireland at least once a week to see how he was doing. She needed the Commonwealth as her family and to, occasionally, go out for a reunion night with them. As annoying as he was she needed France there at every World meeting because he was one of her oldest, and possibly closest, friends/rivals. England never told anyone what she needed; they'd never let her live it down, but there were times, in the dead of night, when she was completely alone she could admit to herself how much they meant to her.

Recently a rather large, loud, frustrating figure had made his way on to her need list. He was noisy, violent, temperamental, he could drink as much as Prussia and his arrogance could supply ten humans for years. The first time they'd met she had punched him and had always seen him as nothing more than an idiot. Then she had to go and fall in love with him. Most of her family hated him and tried to "protect" her from "that dangerous Viking", it might have worked if she actually listened to them and let them control her. Sadly it had taken a number of black eyes and rants for them to get the message that she could handle this on her own. America, Scotland and Australia were the worst.

She shook her head and looked up at Denmark, it was the annual world meeting and they were currently in his hotel room. She had only come over to return a book she had borrowed and he had decided that she couldn't leave. Unfortunately he had two very effective weapon''s: his mouth and hands and her lust/love for him. The only bright side was that it wasn't one way. He was sleeping now and she smiled at the light snoring she could hear. To be honest she couldn't imagine going through the rest of her life without him. Denmark had always been a part of her life and it wouldn't feel right if she didn't hear his irritating laugh every day.


	18. Vision

**Disclaimer: The Hetalia manga and anime series do not belong to me**

17) Vision

Green eyes flickered to the right and there was a tiny hint of envy in them. A pair of hands on the table were clenched slightly tighter than normal and one of them rose to pat down her slightly wild hair. She tried to focus on the speech Japan was giving but she couldn't drag her eyes away from the other female nations. This was a quick five minute conference before they were allowed to go out for the night and her fellow women looked stunning: Belarus, Ukraine, Hungary, Seychelles, Belgium, Taiwan, Vietnam even Lichtenstein, they all looked beautiful and compared to them, she looked like she'd been dragged through a hedge...backwards.

It wasn't like she was vain or anything. Normally she didn't give a toss about how she looked and whenever Frances made a comment about her "unladylike" appearance she just punched him. It was a little different though when she found herself standing right next to some very pretty girls looking scruffy. Inwardly berating herself for her thoughts she tried to get her mind back on subject. This was ridiculous, it wasn't like she wanted to impress anyone or had a romantic interest. She had created one of the greatest empires in history and there had been a time when she had been the most powerful country in the world, so why did she feel inferior to them? So wrapped up in her thoughts she didn't notice the Nordic nation sneaking glances at her from across the room.

* * *

Something is bugging her. He knows that something is wrong because she isn't concentrating on the Asian nation, and she always looks at the speaker in a meeting (what, he knows her habits form years of staring at her, that's not creepy or pathetic!). Instead she's looking at...Hungary? Sure, Hungary looks pretty good in the short dress and boots but why does England look jealous? No he decided, not jealous; envious and yearning. It couldn't be because of the way she looked could it? But then again, she had no-one to tell her that she was beautiful.

She had no-one to tell her how stunning she truly was, or how amazing she looks when her eyes lit up with joy. No-one told her how much she meant to them, or that she was the sexiest woman he'd ever met in his life. He didn't tell her that to him, she would always be breathtaking. He cursed his cowardice and silently hoped that one day he would be able to tell her those things, and more. If he ever did get a chance with her he'd make sure that she never had that envious look on her face again.


	19. Attention

**Disclaimer: The Hetalia manga and anime series do not belong to me**

18) Attention

Englands eyebrow began to twitch as she looked at the scene in front of her. The Netherlands was on the floor with a black eye and a bloody lip, her possessive, idiotic boyfriend AKA Denmark was standing over the bruised nation, with a bruise of his own on his face, and glaring at the poor man. This was getting ridiculous; all the other nation had been doing was speaking to her about a possible diplomatic visit between the two and suddenly Denmark had punched him in the face. Netherlands had responded of course but the first blow had dazed him slightly and it wasn't that hard for the Dane to win. She only hoped that Lars would be willing to talk later unlikely poor Canada last week who still hadn't approached her since.

Honestly she would have to address this issue soon because it was becoming simply impossible for her to do business with other countries. One of the bad things she had discovered about Denmark was that he had a jealous streak a mile wide that was only matched by his possessive streak. He hated it when she gave other countries, only the male ones, her attention. He seemed to believe that if he didn't step in and warn them off, permanently, she would be seduced away from him. On one level she could understand this need of his; he'd been chasing after her for centuries and once he "had" her (though she was in no way an object) there was no way he would let her go easily. The only downside was that he took this to the extreme.

Apparently the only nations he didn't mind her interacting with were the female nations, which dramatically decreased her social circle, her brothers and the other Nordics. Needless to say she was not happy about it. It would probably end up with her yelling at him for being an overprotective, possessive git then he'd shout back and she'd shout. Eventually he would spit out something unimaginably sweet and meaningful and her heart would do that stupid melting thing and they'd end up either having sex or cuddling, it depended on the mood they were in.

Her eyes suddenly widened as she realised something. It was Valentines Day next week. She usually got a couple of gifts from the Commonwealth, America, France, Japan and a few others...Shit. Blood was going to spill. She could just see the massacre. Maybe if she got him drunk the day before he'd have too big of a hangover to do anything about it, or she could just hide for the whole day-

"If I see you talking to her again I'll bring my axe next time." She turned to see the angry expression on Mathias's face and the bored, slightly annoyed on on Netherlands and wanted to hit her head against the wall, hard.


	20. Soul

**Disclaimer: The Hetalia manga and anime series do not belong to me**

19) Soul

Words have never been one of his strengths. Honestly, if he speaks there's about 45% chance he'll say the right thing and the other 55% is that he'll blurt out something incredibly stupid or awkward that would make Sweden whack him over the head. He was much better with actions, sadly that coupled with his spontaneous impulsive nature and unstable temper meant that he wasn't the best "people" person. Usually he let his ministers deal with politics and diplomacy, he would only attend if something was really important and spent his time visiting _cough_ bothering_ cough _the other Nordics.

They had learned to deal with him over the centuries and knew not to take any of the more stupid things he said to heart. England however loved language. She always got angry whenever America or Australia "corrupted" it and was never shy of vocalising her opinion. Her vocabulary was ridiculously large and he swore she must read a dictionary before she went to sleep.

This presented a significant problem whenever he tried to tell her how he felt about her. It soon became clear that around her his tongue got even more twisted and he was even less likely to blurt out the right thing. How to solve this problem? Like he said before, he was better at actions then words.

He had come to visit her once more and it was time to leave. The weekend had been an enjoyable mix off paperwork, sex, dinner with her brothers, mind-blowing sex, meetings with her boss, cuddling and reading in her library. She said goodbye at the door and fidgeted for a second before opening her mouth. Only for it to be covered by his. She closed her eyes and slipped her arms around his neck, she loved moments like this. She'd had so few truly soft and tender moments in her life that it made them even more special. Don't misunderstand her, she was a big fan of the passionate, rough fiery side of their relationship but these moments; when she could feel him put his entire heart and soul into it meant so much to her. She could feel what he felt for her and she felt loved in his arms.


	21. Picture

**Disclaimer: The Hetalia manga and anime series do not belong to me**

20) Picture

England scowled as another mountain of dust flew into the air. Good god when had she last cleaned up in here? She shook her head and finally finished in heaving the monstrous box onto one of the few clear spots. It had been a spur of the moment decision to take a look upstairs in her attic. What she had found was a cleaners nightmare. So, determined to add a little order to the chaos, she had begun to look through her old junk and attempt to clean up. Taking a deep breath of clean(er) air she opened the box, and nearly choked on the vapour that came out of it.

Turning away to cough her hand reached blindly inside and her fingers curled around something soft. Green eyes blinked as she tugged a little harder on the item, it slipped loose and her eyes widened as she recognised what it was. In her hands was her, very grubby, old cloak she used to wear when she was little. A nostalgic smile appeared on her face as she traced the seams in the worn fabric. It had been a gift from Wales, his last one before that git Rome had clapped an iron collar and chain around her neck. Before him she had been Albion after that she was Britannia. The cloak was one of the last connection she had to her wilder, untamed younger self. How had it ended up here. She frowned and carefully folded up the ageing material; it didn't belong here, she'd take it down with her and see if she could make it any better.

Turning her attention back to the box she reached inside again and paused as her hand grabbed something that flt distinctly like wood. Confused she pulled it out; it was a small squarish piece of wood that had a scene carved onto it. She ran her fingers over the lines, it was quite old and clumsily done (the hands of a child). At the bottom was a single word in old, long forgotten runes: friends. Oh, now she remembered. This had been a gift. She could still see his idiotic smile and bright blue eyes as he handed it to her. It must have been during the later stages of the Viking era in her land, the first few decades she had refused to speak to him.

He hadn't take no for an answer, and had eventually worn her down so that she treated him with some civility; she had been less stubborn back then. She wondered how the Nordic nation was doing in these modern times, where a problem couldn't be solved with a giant axe. It was hard to imagine the former Viking sitting down quietly at a diplomatic talk. She chuckled and rubbed some of the dust off; idiot or not he had been a better conqueror than Rome and had attempted to be her friend. She set it aside with the cloak, it didn't deserve to be forgotten about either.


End file.
